


Twenty-Two Kisses

by sunshinexbomb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Birthdays, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall kisses him softly in greeting, quick and chaste because it’s all he can manage. He softly mumbles, “One,” against Harry’s mouth before he parts and ignores the look of confusion that Harry gives him.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>In which Niall celebrates Harry's twenty-second birthday with twenty-two kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Two Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Just something quick and fun for Harry's birthday! Thank you to [Mag](http://notverypunkofme.tumblr.com), [Sasha](http://bigbrotherlouis.tumblr.com), and [Adriana](http://thearcherballet.tumblr.com) for looking this over!
> 
> I do not own One Direction and this is obviously fictional.

**one.**

It’s late when Niall’s flight lands in L.A., or early, he supposes, depending on how you want to look at it. Either way it’s nearly 3 A.M. and Niall’s dead on his feet after spending nearly fourteen hours on the plane, his body already protesting the shock of jet-lag and the few hours he managed to sleep.

He manages a smile, though, when he spots Harry waiting for him. His eyes are red and puffy, dark circles deep underneath them. Niall wonders if he’s just woken up or if he never went to sleep. He doesn’t know which one would be worse.

Harry grins too when they meet, the both of them standing toe-to-toe and smiling like the sleep-deprived idiots that they are. “Hi,” he says, voice hoarse and tired.

Niall kisses him softly in greeting, quick and chaste because it’s all he can manage. He softly mumbles, “One,” against Harry’s mouth before he parts and ignores the look of confusion that Harry gives him. Harry doesn’t ask, though, and Niall doesn’t protest when he shoulders Niall’s duffle bag and takes his hand before they make their way to the car.

**two.**

Niall wakes up a few hours later with Harry’s hair in his mouth and his half-hard dick pressed against Harry’s bum. His brain’s still clouded with sleep, though, and he just curls his arm tighter around Harry’s waist. Before he drifts off, he presses his mouth softly beneath Harry’s ear. He doesn’t miss the way Harry’s lips tilt up into a smile even in his sleep.

**three.**

Niall’s more alert the next time he wakes up, mostly because he’s fucking freezing and he feels like his bladder’s going to explode any minute. The bed is empty beside him, but he can hear the shower running in the en-suite and he manages to emerge from his blanket cocoon to pad into it quietly.

Niall relieves himself, laughing loudly when he flushes the toilet and Harry yelps in surprise from the sudden change in temperature. He strips down, sliding open the glass door to the shower and into the steamy spray.

“That was not funny,” Harry mumbles from where he’s standing with his head down under the spray, looking ridiculous with his long hair hanging in limp tendrils and the water beating against the back of his neck.

Niall just laughs again, plastering himself to the broad expanse of Harry’s back and placing a sweet kiss to the back of his neck. He runs his hand down Harry’s chest, fingers trailing over the sparse hair on his belly before wrapping tightly under his cock. Harry’s hips buck almost instantly and Niall whispers, “I can think of a few ways to make it up to you,” hot and heavy in his ear.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

**four.**

Niall makes breakfast for both of them, thick, fluffy Belgian waffles with mounds of homemade whipped cream and freshly cut strawberries because it’s Harry’s birthday and he deserves to indulge himself.

Harry insists that Niall feed him, because he’s ridiculous, and Niall agrees with a roll of his eyes and a soft laugh. He cuts the waffles into bite-size pieces, blushing hot every time his fingers brush against Harry’s mouth. Harry’s mouth quickly stains red from the strawberries, looking more and more obscene every time he licks over them. 

It’s not long before Niall can’t take it anymore, leaning over and licking the sugary sweet taste of fruit and cream from Harry’s mouth. Harry melts against him, sticky fingers resting against Niall’s cheek, cupping his face and bringing him closer.

“Four,” Niall whispers when they part. Harry looks at him curiously, but Niall gets a dollop of whipped cream on his finger, sticking it in his mouth before he can ask. Harry licks it off dutifully, tongue swirling around the digit and making Niall swallow thickly.

By the time they finish, the waffles have gone cold and Niall feels like he could use another shower.

**five.**

“What would you like to do today?” Niall asks when they’re finally fed and dressed. There’s hours still until the party Harry’s throwing, and Niall’s up for doing anything that Harry fancies. 

Harry thinks about it for a minute before smiling widely. “Let’s go visit Louis.”

Niall wrinkles his brow in confusion, about to question him when it dawns on him. “Okay, fine,” he says with a laugh, heart skipping a bit when Harry beams.

Louis doesn’t look too surprised to see them, pulling Harry into a tight hug and asking, “I get a special visit from the birthday boy, do I? What a pleasure.”

“Where’s my favorite godson?” Harry asks, stepping into Louis’s as Niall gets his hug.

“Not your godson,” Louis says, rolling his eyes.

“Not yet.”

Harry already has Freddie in his arms when Niall and Louis join him in the living room, making ridiculous cooing noises as Freddie grabs at his long hair with tiny, tiny fingers. He’s so, so small, probably looking even smaller because of the way he’s swathed in blankets and cradled in Harry’s arms. Niall’s breath catches a bit in his throat.

“Shit, Lou, you’re a dad.”

Louis has the softest smile on his face that Niall’s ever seen, and it says more than any amount of words ever could. Harry grins at them both before glancing at Niall and asking, “Wanna hold him?”

Niall nods, taking the baby from Harry carefully, supporting his head and neck in the cradle of his arms. He seems even smaller now. “Best baby in the world.”

Niall feels something tight and constricting in his throat and chest when he looks at Harry. He kisses Harry softly on the cheek, bouncing the baby gently in his arms and thinks about how this is one of those moments he’ll never forget.

**six-fifteen.**

They barely get through the door before Niall’s pressing Harry up against it, kissing him hard and messy, Harry responding eagerly. Niall’s overwhelmed with how much he wants Harry, how badly he wants to touch and taste, like some primal urge following the tenderness and the realization that for him, this is it. Harry is it.

They shed their clothes on the way to the bedroom, laughing and tripping over themselves until Harry’s back hits the mattress and Niall’s climbing over him. Niall kisses his mouth, his neck, leaves a trail down his chest and his belly. He nudges his nose gently against Harry’s cock before kissing the head and then going lower, spreading his legs to run his tongue flat over his hole. Niall loves doing this, loves making Harry squirm and moan, loves the heady taste of him, loves the intimacy of it. 

They fuck bare, Harry’s leg propped over Niall’s shoulder and their fingers tangled. Harry’s always ridiculously tight, hot and overwhelming around Niall’s cock as he fucks into him hard and fast. When they’re done, they’re both pink-faced and glassy-eyed, Niall’s come trickling down Harry’s thighs when Niall pulls out of him, still collapsed on his chest. He kisses Harry’s chest, Harry’s hand squeezing his waist in return, and laughs bright and loud as he says, “I love you.”

**sixteen**.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks, frowning at himself in the mirror before looking over his shoulder back at Niall. 

“You look ridiculous, so I suppose it’s fine.”

Harry pouts, fingering the hem of his shirt. It’s sheer and silvery with tiny stars, unbuttoned nearly to his bellybutton and matched with a pair of jeans that hug his thighs so snuggly they must be custom-made. He’s paired the ensemble with the glittery St. Laurents and the look is so classically Harry, that Niall’s not sure why he’s doubting himself.

“I need to look nice,” Harry whines.

“You look good, pet,” Niall insists more sincerely, chest warm when Harry beams at him. He kisses Harry’s temple sweetly, tangling their hands together before Harry brings him in for a tight embrace that Niall sinks into.

**seventeen.**

Harry stops Niall right before he’s about to get out of the car, wrapping his long fingers around his wrist and tugging him in until their mouths meet. He kisses Niall slow and deep, tongue pressing against the seam of his mouth and a hand cupping his face while his other arm curls sweetly around his waist.

Niall’s caught off guard, but kisses back quickly, letting Harry press him into the seat of the car. When they part, Harry’s mouth is puffy and obviously kiss-bruised and Niall laughs, running his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip before leaning in for a last softer kiss. 

“That should be good to last the night, right?” Harry asks and Niall just shakes his head with a smile because they both know it won’t be.

**eighteen**.

Niall loses Harry quickly in the crowd of the party. It’s dark and loud and packed with faces Niall’s familiar with but usually never sees outside of the glossy pages of magazines. He thinks it’s all a bit much, and it’s not until he’s downed a couple of shots at the open bar that he feels relaxed and loose enough to put himself out there.

There’s plenty of people to talk to, and he mingles most of the night, flitting from person to person because no one’s holding his attention for very long. It’s ridiculous, but he misses Harry, wishes he was here beside him instead of playing host to a thousand or so of his closest friends. 

Niall doesn’t find him again for hours, and when he does they’re surrounded people, too many for Niall to do anything but pull Harry in like he’s going to whisper in his ear and kiss him on the corner of his mouth instead. He mutters, “Eighteen,” after he does so, and before Harry can ask, he’s being pulled away again, leaving Niall alone to entertain himself.

**nineteen.**

Right before they cut the cake, Harry pulls Niall into the loo, making sure to lock the door before pushing him against it. 

“That wasn’t enough to last the night,” Harry says, in between rough kisses. He ruts up against Niall’s thigh, kissing him hungrily. Harry tastes like the fruity alcohol he likes to drink, and Niall kisses him thoroughly, wants to properly get his fill while he can.

Niall’s working on the button of Harry’s shirt when there’s a loud banging on the door, someone angrily yelling, “Can you hurry up, mate? Seriously need to piss.”

Harry groans, face tucking into Niall’s neck with resignation as he adjust himself in his jeans. Niall sighs in frustration before pushing Harry away, fixing up his hair and shirt in an attempt to make it look like he wasn’t just rutting up against Harry, only about thirty seconds from getting off. 

They stumble out together, whoever it is waiting for his turn not even sparing them a second glance before locking himself in and leaving them to make their way back into the crowd.

**twenty.**

Niall luckily finds himself right next to Harry as the guests sing a thunderous chorus of “Happy Birthday”. Harry’s beaming so wide that Niall thinks he can curl up and fall asleep in his dimples, and he leans forward a little, taking Harry’s hand as subtly as they can.

The crowd tapers off at different times, Liam ending the rendition with a drunken falsetto that makes Harry snort with laughter. He blows out twenty-two candles and cuts into the fancy three-tiered cake, not complaining when Niall places a smacking kiss to his cheek and Louis smashes a piece of cake onto his face like they’re eighteen again.

**twenty-one.**

_@NiallOfficial: an incredibly happy birthday to @harry_styles ! sorry about the cake mate ! hope it all comes out xxxxx_

Niall supposes that counts for twenty-one.

**twenty-two**.

It’s nearing 3 A.M. again when Harry and Niall stumble into the backseat of Harry’s car together, both of them giggling and tipsy. Niall’s still wired-up, thrumming with energy despite the late hour, and more importantly, he’s glad that he finally has Harry to himself again.

When he kisses Harry this time, he tastes both sweet like birthday cake and sharp like liquor. Niall licks into his mouth greedily, their noses brushing as he tilts his head to change the angle and kiss Harry more thoroughly.

“Twenty-two,” Harry whispers when they part, and Niall beams. “Twenty-kisses for my twenty-second birthday. You sap.”

“Glad you caught on,” Niall says with a giggle, and he kisses Harry one more time, just for luck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated. You can find me on [Tumblr](http://singledadniall.tumblr.com) or on [Twitter](http://witter.com/sunshinexbomb)!


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